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Ritsu is bored. She's so bored it should be illegal. Really, no one should blame her if she zones out. It's just a stupid party, anyway, and she's only here representing Knights because Tsukasa was sick.
Izumi is here on purpose, for some reason. Not that Ritsu is complaining; she's glad someone else is here to suffer with her. Especially when Izumi looks so delicious in her high necked top with the sheer blue sleeves and the shiny silver pleated skirt that falls around her thighs…
Izumi slaps Ritsu's shoulder—a little harder than necessary, in Ritsu's opinion. "Stop drooling," she hisses, face pink. "You're an embarrassment to society.
Ritsu wipes her mouth with her napkin. "I wasn't drooling," she says blithely. She won't deny that she's been staring, though. She knows the rules about fancy dinners, even ones hosted in fancy ballrooms for idol agencies, but she can't bring herself to take her eyes off Izumi to talk to whoever is sitting on her other side.
She leans closer. "Hey," she murmurs. "Let's get out of here."
Izumi savagely attacks the steak on her plate. "Absolutely not. We need to make a good impression, Kuma-kun." She looks over at Ritsu again. "Then again, you seem incapable of doing that."
Ritsu giggles and adjusts the neckline of her dress, settling it just below her shoulders. She likes the dark red sweater dress. She looks good in it. She especially thinks she looks good in the dress when it slips down and bares her shoulders and collarbones.
Izumi looks over at her again, and Ritsu could practically eat the way her eyes dip down Ritsu's throat and linger on the spot where her bra strap disappears under the dress. (Ritsu would tell her all about how she wore her asymmetrical black bra just for tonight, because one bra strap showing is less scandalous than two, but she doesn't think that's proper dinner conversation. Besides, Izumi will find out anyway.) "You're terrible," is all Izumi says.
Ritsu chews a bite of her own steak, imagining it's Izumi's lips as she bites down and lets the juices run over her tongue and down her chin. She only wipes it off as it reaches the dip between her collarbones. Izumi licks her lips.
Ritsu can almost count the breaths she takes before Izumi slips her phone out of her purse and plays a recording of a phone ringing. Everyone turns to look at her: who answers the phone in the middle of dinner?
"What is it, Kasa-kun?" A pause. "Mhm. Okay, I get it. …yeah, fine. … Yep. Be right there with the medicine." She hangs up, snapping her perfectly painted fingers. "Kuma-kun. We're leaving."
Ritsu is perfectly happy to follow her out like a loyal pet on her heels. Once the door to the dining room closes behind them, she latches onto Izumi's arm, chin on her shoulder and nuzzling into the space between her shoulder and her neck. "Secchan is soo nice, helping Su~chan with her cold medicine—"
Izumi grabs her jaw, effectively shutting her up. Her face is dusted with pink. "Kuma-kun… so annoying."
"Whaaat?" Ritsu whines. "I'm your gorgeous girlfriend, you can't say that to me."
"Tch. You know I didn't leave for Kasa-kun. She didn't even really call me."
Ritsu kisses the space between her thumb and her hand where it's holding her jaw. "Uh-huh. Mm, Secchan is so cute when she's annoyed~" With that remark, she slips her face out of Izumi's hand and crouches down quickly, picking up Izumi princess style.
"E-eh?! Kuma-kun…" Izumi blushes and locks her arms around Ritsu's neck. "Don't drop me," she warns.
"Hehe. You bet," Ritsu giggles, walking easily towards the elevator. Izumi pushes the button to open it, and the one for their floor when they step in.
"Hey, Kuma-kun—" Izumi's sentence is cut off as Ritsu kisses her softly, pressing against the cold metal of the elevator wall. Izumi shivers, looking up at Ritsu with half-closed eyes.
The elevator dings open.
Ritsu laughs softly. "Alright, princess, you're gonna have to get the room key out. I'm a little occupied."
Izumi clings tighter to Ritsu's neck with one arm, fingers splayed out on the back of her neck, while she rummages in the side pocket of her skirt with the other hand. She clumsily presses the keycard to the room lock and turns the handle, clinging onto Ritsu again as they push the door open.
Ritsu closes the door with her heel and carries Izumi to the bed, throwing her down onto the mattress.
"Oof." Izumi bounces a little on the mattress. "Kuma-kun, you're kind of an asshole."
Ritsu is silent, feeling like she's frozen. Izumi is frowning gently at her, leaning back on her elbows, skirt falling around her thighs in gorgeous curves.
Izumi waves a hand at her. "Kuma-kun? Hey, earth to Kuma-kun?"
Ritsu almost feels on the back foot, stunned once again by Izumi's beauty. The cerulean gaze of her girlfriend casts a spell on her, shattering the brazen confidence she suggested at dinner. "Do—" She starts to speak, then realizes her mouth is dry. She licks her lips and starts again. "Do you mind if I get more comfortable?"
Izumi rolls her eyes. "Yes, I can tell you're dying to get out of that dress. Come here." She sits up and beckons to Ritsu.
Ritsu shuffles over to Izumi, kicking off her flats, Izumi's hands hook around the back of her thighs and pull her closer, her hands sliding up under the dress. She snaps the waistband of Ritsu's shorts, and Ritsu squeals in surprise. "Arms up," Izumi commands, and slides the dress up over Ritsu's head, balling it up and tossing it over her shoulder. Then she plants a kiss right above Ritsu's bra on her skin. "That's better," Izumi says, just barely audible.
Despite her bike shorts and bra (which does cover her completely, even though it's the asymmetrical kind and those are notoriously unstable), Ritsu feels raw and exposed under Izumi's eyes.
So what can she do but kiss her?
She crashes into Izumi, lips clacking into teeth with almost bruising force as they fall back onto the bed. Izumi's arms fall easily around her waist and her hands find Izumi's silver hair, tugging and pulling her as close as skin and physics will allow. Izumi breathing heavily into her mouth is better than any expensive perfume.
Izumi licks into Ritsu's mouth and sighs as Ritsu bites her tongue and then her lips. "Hey," she whispers, drawing back and putting her hand over Ritsu's mouth. "I don't want to rip these sleeves."
Ritsu gives her the best puppy-dog eyes she can muster. "Secchan," she whispers into her hand. "Can I do the honors?"
Izumi rolls her eyes. "Yes, you can take my shirt off." She shrieks a little as Ritsu's cold hands slip under the hem of her shirt. "Hey! Leave the bra alone, you little freak," she says, exasperated, but Ritsu knows she secretly likes the teasing. In a matter of seconds Izumi's arms are above her head, and Ritsu takes her time slipping the ends of the sleeves off and feeling Izumi's soft, slender hands.
Izumi kisses her softly. "You're so annoying, Ritsu," she says quietly.
Ritsu coos. "Aw, you love me."
Izumi doesn't deny it, just kisses her again.
Ritsu rolls over, bracing herself on her elbows above Izumi, and kisses down her neck. She sits back, straddling Izumi's thighs, and admires her girlfriend. To be perfectly honest, her bra is kind of showy: it's mostly mesh, with solid fabric curving up over her boobs and around the sides, not at all covering the center of her chest, where Ritsu can almost trace the shadows of her two breasts pushed together. "Damn," Ritsu mutters. "Secchan is so hot."
Izumi smirks. "What was that?"
"I said, Secchan's ego is quite a lot," Ritsu says, louder. She sighs dramatically and flops facefirst into her girlfriend's chest. She hums, sliding a hand up Izumi's side and squeezing.
Izumi slaps her wrist, and the force makes her chest move. Ritsu giggles and slides her cold hands under Izumi's waist.
"You're incorrigible," Izumi complains.
Ritsu wiggles up to kiss at her neck. "Secchan's so pretty," she singsongs.
Izumi goes quiet for a long moment. "You mean that?"
Ritsu kisses her jaw. "You're soo gorgeous, I love your face and the cute little freckles on your shoulders and your pretty stretch marks and—"
Izumi shoves a hand over Ritsu's mouth, her face bright red. "Okay, okay! Shut up!"
Ritsu slides off the bed and plants little kisses on Izumi's knees and thighs. "I like the little scar here from when you scraped your knee on your motorbike," she says in between pecks. "And I like the mole here—" That one is above Izumi's knee, just below the hem of her skirt. Ritsu flips the fabric up and keeps talking. "—and I think the stretch marks here are so you, they're long and smooth and silvery and remind me of the best parts of Secchan." She kisses the marks on the inside of Izumi's thighs.
Izumi squeezes her legs together, trapping Ritsu and squishing her nose. "Will you shut up?" she says, more overwhelmed than annoyed. She releases Ritsu and yanks on her hair, bending over to kiss her.
Ritsu locks her arms around Izumi's waist and kisses her back sweetly. "Izumi-chan~" she says in a lilting voice, when Izumi sits up to catch her breath. "Love you."
Izumi sighs and kisses her forehead. "Yeah. Love you too."